A Giving Heart: Robyn's Story
by Bittah
Summary: Being revised now :) Short tale of a girl who has grown up on the streets by herself.


I've decided to revise this. It may be a slow process, sorry…I've been outta it lately, but please read and review :) This will come in parts - beware.

Disclaimer: Disney owns our dear boys *sniffles*…..

but I've locked Spot Conlon up in my closet for lonely nights *smirks and runs to torture him with her evil ways*

A chorus of voices engulfed the room in utter happiness. A skinny, awkward girl of eleven, stood upon a wooden chair, grinning widely. Her dress of lacey white touched almost to her toes so that her worn out brown shoes were barely showing. She took in a deep breath and let it out, the room growing dark instantly. The people cheered as the young girl blew out her birthday candles. She smiled at her father in glee as the lights turned back on. The little blonde-haired girl ate her cake quickly and watched the others quietly, waiting for them to be done. Her excitement grew as they pulled out brightly wrapped presents. She opened them all, thanking each and every person for their presents. Now there was only one left. It was wrapped in a simple brown box, but was heavy nonetheless. She looked at her beaming father with wide eyes as it was opened. Her big, blue eyes lit up with pleasure as she held it up for everyone to see. The golden key glimmered in the weak light as her family and friends admired it. She jumped into her father's arms, thanking him over and over.

He laughed and kissed her on the forehead. "A golden key for a sweet girl with golden hair," he whispered in her ear. She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "I love you daddy," her squeaky little voice was filled with emotion. 

"And I love you more," he replied, putting her down. There were no fake emotions in the small room, only ones of love and joy.

* * *

Morning shone in the eyes of the newly grown girl. Feeling happily a year older, the small girl pulled out the key from beneath her pillow. She rolled out of bed quickly and dressed, putting the key in her pocket. She tied her blonde hair up in a blue ribbon and went to the kitchen to say good morning to her father. 

She stopped short when she saw the landlady standing in the front door, face red and cheeks wet, a man in a suit trying to comfort her. Frightened, the girl ran frantically around, trying to find her father. Unable to locate him, she scurried back into the kitchen where the round woman was still crying into the man's chest. "Mrs. Carol, where's my daddy?" she asked, tugging on her apron.

Mrs. Carol looked down upon her and opened her mouth to say something, but only accomplished bursting out into harder sobs. The girl looked at the man, who bent down to talk to her. "Why you must be Mr. Kain's daughter," he spoke without emotion, a forced smile painted on his face.

She nodded. "Where's my daddy?" she repeated. 

He glanced back at the old, sobbing landlady. "Well dear, I'm sorry to say that you're daddy was in an accident," he said.

She gasped and averted her eyes to the ground as tears threatened to fall from her hurt, innocent eyes. "Is he ok?" she asked quietly.

The man sighed. "Dear, I'm afraid he's dead," he said.

She looked up at him, wide-eyed. "No, he can't be!" she exclaimed, holding her tears at bay.

The man took her trembling hand. "I'm sorry dear. He was in a train wreck early this morning, on his way to town to get some blacksmithing materials," he said, brushing the tears away from her eyes.

She closed her eyes tightly. "I'm afraid we're gonna have to take you to your aunt's house," he said. The crying girl shook her head frantically and pushed past him, running out the door, never to return again.

* * *

An adolescent girl about the age of sixteen pushed the beads of sweat from her delicate facial features with the back of her bony hand. Robyn had just pushed the furniture around for the fourth time that day. Nothing seemed to be going her way. It was her sixteenth birthday and she was alone again, no one to celebrate with. She sighed heavily and sat on the old couch. She had just moved into the tiny two room apartment the other day and hadn't had enough time to get situated. It didn't help that she was still queasy from the train ride the day before.

Robyn looked around the room, trying to decide what was missing. "Ah ha," she said out loud, standing up. She put up a shelf opposite from her creaky old mattress and pulled something out of a small bag. She grabbed some polish and a rag and polished the object until it was shining. She set the golden key upon the shelf and smiled. "That's bettah," she said. Being exhausted, she let her malnourished body sink back on the bed and fell fast asleep in a matter of minutes. 

When she woke up, the room was darkening with night. She got up slowly, still groggy, and reached for her change-bag. It wasn't where she had put it. She had spent the past five years working in various factories to earn enough, and finally leave from her horrible town. Now she was to live in the two-roomed apartment in the city of opportunity. _New York._ But now her money had disappeared out of nowhere. 

Robyn hurriedly ran out the door, sensing the familiar prick of skin rising on her neck, which only indicated an intruder had been there. It takes a thief to know a thief. She heard a noise in the alley and ran to head the person off. A girl her age bumped into her, dropping the bag of money and crying out in surprise. Robyn picked it up and looked her up and down. She was a stocky, mean looking girl with blonde hair falling over her shoulders and green, menacing eyes staring back at her. She had a large bandage on her arm, which was covered in blood and had a bump on her head that had little hints of blood around it. The girl snarled ferociously and ran in the opposite direction.


End file.
